


Switching

by ReachUnattainable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Flogging, Light BDSM, M/M, Subspace, Switching, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21564526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReachUnattainable/pseuds/ReachUnattainable
Summary: Harry is a beautiful sub. He is brave and bold and he immerses himself into it the same way he does everything else.Draco is a dangerous sub. He is touchy and difficult to read and his fight or flight response is strong.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 99





	Switching

Harry is a beautiful sub. He is brave and bold and he immerses himself into it the same way he does everything else. Draco can see the pleasure - or the shame, or the frustration - splashed all over his face. He knows from Harry's breathing how much he enjoys it.

  
And of course, Harry does enjoy it; that's what it's all about. Draco's only purpose here is to bring Harry pleasure, even if that sometimes looks a little warped. It's fun, when they do this, for both of them.  
  
Draco gets to experience the heady rush of having Harry Potter on his knees before him, or bound to his bed, or cuffed to the ceiling. Sometimes Draco puts a collar on him like a dog and makes him kiss his feet. Harry does that beautifully, the same way he does everything. It takes Draco's breath away to be handed that privilege.

  
The truth, as Draco well knows, is that it is only ever really a facade of power. Harry undoubtedly has the magical ability to slip Draco's flimsy muggle restraints whenever he wanted, wandless or not. Harry has a safe word ('Dursley'), but when he picked it he did so carelessly and Draco suspects that Harry doesn't ever have any intention of using it. Draco is always very particular about making sure whatever they do is good for Harry for a number of reasons, not least of which is looking out for Harry's Gryffindor approach to their games.

  
Over the years of their relationship Draco has paid careful attention to what causes Harry to squirm in that delightful way he has, what makes his breathing hitch or deepen and what prompts the glossy look in his eye that means despite what he might be saying, he's getting off.

  
Draco looks away from where Harry is happily cuffed to the bed frame and slowly unbuttons his own shirt while he thinks about what to do with Harry tonight.

  
"Turn around?" Harry asks hopefully, and Draco stills his movements and turns just enough that he can look back over his own shoulder.

  
"I thought I was in charge tonight?" He replies, eyebrow raised in his most haughty of expressions.  
  
Harry tries and fails to hide his grin and Draco thinks he might have to consider gagging him if he's going to be insolent like this.

  
"I just want to look at you Draco, please?" There is a whine to Harry's voice that is not remotely genuine, not yet.

  
Fine. If Harry wants to play it this way, Draco is game. He turns fully, giving Harry a teasing glance of his chest exposed by his now-open shirt. He slides his wand from his pocket and wordlessly summons a scarf from the back of the door. He mentally rolls his eyes when Harry's old school red and gold monstrosity arrives in his outstretched hand. Harry has plenty of very good quality fashionable and respectably-coloured scarves that Draco himself has bought, yet of course this would be the first one to hand.

  
Striding forward towards the bed, Draco doesn't miss the way Harry's eyes flare; whether at the magic, the scarf itself or the realisation of what Draco is about to do, he doesn't know. He settles on the bed astride Harry, who is naked save for a pair of grey boxer shorts. Draco himself is wearing a thick pair of formal dark trousers which do a passable job of disguising his erection, unlike Harry's boxers. He takes care to kneel up in such a way that Harry's brazen arching can't provide either of them with much friction.

  
"Ah, ah," Draco chides, stilling Harry's movements with the hand holding the scarf against his hip. He brings his spare hand up to press a finger gently to Harry's lips. Merlin, he's beautiful. Harry holds eye contact fearlessly, excitedly and intensely, and it's too much. Draco needs to resume some semblance of control here, and so he reaches up with both hands and wraps the scarf deftly over Harry's eyes and around the back of his head.

  
Harry exhales heavily as Draco secures the knot behind his head and Draco already feels better.  
  
"I'll decide when you can look at me, Potter," he says, and then pulls himself back up to stand beside the bed.

  
Harry is propped up slightly with his shoulders resting on the pillows and his arms above his head, plenty of slack in the restraints. The cuffs around his wrists are good quality leather - they should hold against Harry's pulls but be soft on his skin and easy to get out of in an actual emergency. Now that Draco has taken away Harry's sight, his chest is rising and falling heavier than before. His erection is straining through his boxers and Draco very much wants to see it properly.

  
He Vanishes Harry's shorts with a flick of his wand - wordless, again - and smirks as he watches Harry realise what he's done. Harry's cock twitches and Harry lets out a tiny groan.

  
"Now then," Draco adjusts himself in his trousers as he looks, "I think I want to watch you squirm for me."  
  


...  
...

  
  
Draco is a dangerous sub. For one thing, he rarely allows it to happen, and when he does, he often tries to persuade himself that it's not his choice. So that means Harry has to take on the mantle of responsibility not only in the actions of what they do but also initiating it in a way that's safe and successful. Draco is touchy and difficult to read and his fight or flight response is strong. Harry has to be skilful.

  
Harry has to be careful and controlled. The easiest way to meet Draco's needs is to allow himself to get angry, to unleash some of his pent up frustration and to take that out on Draco who may or may not deserve it. He might go too hard, too early. He's always a little bit scared that he is going to go too far and he won't slow down or stop when he should. Harry has always had a bit of a temper, especially where Malfoy is concerned.

  
Then there is Draco's tendency to lose himself in subspace, giving over far too much to Harry. Draco likes (wants? needs?) to be hurt when they do this, and whilst Harry is perfectly prepared to do so, it is a worrisome role to take on. Draco has a safe word ('Unicorn') and he has used it quite appropriately twice so far, but he didn't use it the time he passed out from blood loss or exhaustion - Harry still doesn't know which - or the time his erection wilted and he sobbed into Harry's chest for almost an hour.  
  
Draco is a beautiful sub but he is also a very damaged man and he needs things that Harry can often barely put into words. It is an honour to be the person who gives it to him.

  
Currently, Draco is kneeling, fully clothed, with his forehead pressed to Harry's right shoe. His wrists are clasped together behind his back. This is a position that Harry is pretty sure Draco once assumed - at least once - before Lord Voldemort. And that is why this holds so much significance for him. For them both.

  
For Draco, this is more than just a power game. Unlike when they do this the other way around, Draco actually wants Harry to make him powerless; to give him what he thinks he deserves. It's all such a fucking mess.

  
Harry draws him upright with a tap of his wand to the side of Draco's head. Draco raises his torso gracefully, his dark robes shifting and tightening across his chest. He looks down at Harry's feet and waits.  
  
"Stand up," Harry commands gently, stroking the tip of his wand across Draco's cheek. "Undress for me."  
  
Draco does so, avoiding looking at Harry at all. Harry decides to sit down in his desk chair and watch. Draco has robes with lots of buttons and he undoes them all individually. His wand is on the table at the other side of the room and Harry summons it casually with his own. Draco catches sight of it flying into Harry's hand and, although his breath hitches, he makes no objection.

  
Harry touches Draco's wand far more often than is polite. It's the same hawthorn wand that he used all those years ago. It's as familiar and comforting to Harry as his own, albeit in a different way. When Draco has finished unbuttoning his robes, Harry divests him of them with a flick of Draco's wand, and with another one sends his undergarments in the same direction. Using the hawthorn wand, Harry can't manage it non-verbally and has to mutter the incantation.

  
Draco looks up at Harry, his expression guarded. His dick is only half-hard. He's waiting for instruction and he is liable to flee if not given any soon.

  
Harry gets to his feet and within two strides, settles a hand behind Draco's neck and kisses him. Draco doesn't always take well to that, but tonight he is compliant and quiet, opening his lips for Harry and gently resting his fingers on Harry's hips.

  
Harry breaks off and holds Draco's face between both hands. "Can you tell me what you need, Malfoy?" he whispers. Sometimes Draco responds better to his surname.

  
Draco takes a couple of deep breaths and his eyes flutter shut and open again. "Make it hurt," he says, so quietly Harry almost has to taste the words on his breath. "Fuck me, Harry, and make it hurt?"  
  
Harry looks hard at him for a second, and then slides one hand up into Draco's hair and fists it so that it pulls on his scalp. He sends Draco stumbling against the wall with a push of his arms and a little addition of magic.

  
"Face against the wall, Malfoy. Hands above your head. I want you to stay as quiet as you can for me." He doesn't, actually. He wants to hear Draco grunt and hiss and maybe cry, but he knows that will sound even better if Draco is trying to hold it all back.

  
Harry steps away and raises his wand. Often they usual muggle techniques for this, but Harry thinks they are both in the mood for magic tonight, and he knows how to hurt Draco with his spells.  
  
...  
...

  
  
Draco watches the dildo as it slides back inside Harry. Harry's knees are drawn up and outwards giving Draco a good view. Draco sits on the bed below him, naked now, legs crossed in front of him and his cock erect enough to be rubbing on his own stomach as he leans slightly forward.  
  
Harry is straining against the wrist restraints and making small, hungry noises. The scarf is still intact around his eyes. "Draco?" He whines, and this time it's genuine, "please fuck me."

  
Draco smirks, again, even though Harry can't see it. He strokes one slow finger up Harry's cock which entices a moan and an arch of Harry's pelvis. "Mmm. Not yet."

  
The noise Harry makes as he pulls the dildo out is delectable and Draco gets an incredible view of Harry's little pink arsehole.

  
He shifts, leaning forward over Harry. His bare leg rests against Harry's hard cock and he props himself up with one arm next to Harry's chest. From here, he can strike his free hand over Harry's nipple, throat, lips and scarf, and lean in to nibble the underside of Harry's ear below the scarf.  
  
"What if I just left you like this Harry, hey?" he whispers. "All desperate." Draco's fingers stray to tweak at Harry's nipple. "Could you come just from thinking about me?"

  
Harry writhes beneath him. "Ngh, please, please Draco-"

  
Draco kisses him, feeling the soft scarf against his face as he does so. It's old and worn and smells fantastically of Harry. Draco allows himself to indulge for a moment in the sensation of Harry's mouth opening for him, kissing him back insistently and groaning slightly underneath him. Draco feel's Harry's cock twitch against his leg.

  
He draws back, leaving Harry's lips still parted and pink and glossy from the kiss. Harry is flushed and he still holds his legs apart and open for Draco. Draco can't resist but to tease a finger over Harry's hole where he is still sticky from the lube they used with the dildo. He eyes the object in question and then, without warning, drives it back deep into Harry's arse.

  
Harry lets out a loud shout at the unexpected intrusion, followed by a hiss as his body clenches around it. "Fuck, fuck," he mutters, "you fucker."

  
In a flash, Draco is back again above Harry's face, one hand resting firmly against Harry's neck and underneath his jaw. "What did you just call me?"

  
"Sorry, sorry-" Harry says, "I didn't mean- I just-" he breaks off and makes a little noise. "Please Draco, I want your cock."

  
Damn but Harry knows what it does to Draco to hear him beg. Draco squeezes his fingers gently, enough to cause Harry's breath to hitch and maybe enough to leave little bruises that Harry can heal or keep, at his discretion. Then he slides his hand up so that his index and middle fingers are pushing inside Harry's hot, wet mouth. He has to hold his own breath to stop himself groaning at the sensation of it.

  
"Can't have you mouthing off at me, can we, Potter?" He says, clipping his words to remind Harry who he's dealing with. "I think I'll have to keep it busy with something else."

  
It's not hard to settle higher on the bed, straddling Harry's chest so that Draco's dick rests just in front of Harry's face. Draco keeps one hand on Harry's cheek and rubs his thumb across his bottom lip. "Do you know what I'm going to do now, Harry?" He tilts his hips forward and the head of his cock brushes Harry's lips. "Can you feel what that is?"

  
Harry has opened his mouth in perfect acquiescence but he nods and makes a sound that could be a yes. A needy, hungry sound.

  
Draco lets his eyes flutter closed and a low, breathy noise of satisfaction leaves him as he slides into the heaven of Harry's mouth. Harry closes his lips around Draco's shaft and although he struggles at first when Draco pushes deeper, he relaxes his throat and breathes out through his nose. Draco makes an appreciative noise and runs a hand over the top of Harry's head. He briefly considers removing the scarf - he loves looking into Harry's eyes when he does this - but he thinks Harry is really turned on by the makeshift blindfold so he doesn't.

  
"That's it, Harry, good boy. So perfect for me, aren't you? So desperate for my cock."

  
On cue, Harry makes a desperate little whimper in the back of his throat and chokes slightly even as he tries to move his own head up and down for Draco.

  
"Shush, shush," Draco soothes, "keep still now so I can fuck your face."

  
And that is exactly what he does. He is rough enough that Harry can't completely keep his teeth shielded and every so often they catch on Draco's sensitive foreskin, but it's so good.

  
Draco rides Harry's face until Harry is fighting for breath and the scarf has begun to slip lower down his nose. With a low growl, Draco pulls out and uses one hand to hold the blindfold tight across Harry's face and the other to wank himself to completion.

  
"Open your mouth wide for me Harry, show me where you want my come. Don't swallow it."  
  
Harry is so obedient, even panting as he is, he opens up obscenely, a perfect hole for Draco to aim. Draco pulses in the general direction and grunts his way through his orgasm, watching his come landing in Harry's mouth, across his lips and cheeks and and chest. It's filthy and dirty and beautiful.  
  
As he comes down, Draco is delighted to see a great spurt of semen splashed across the scarf. Hoping his smirk just looks like the smile of a man who has come all over his bound boyfriend, Draco deftly removes the scarf and sends it to the corner of the room. He very much hopes Harry won't discover Draco's come on it until he next goes to wear it.

  
Harry looks up at him, his eyes bright green around dark pupils, his mouth hanging slightly open with Draco's come on his tongue and a shiny trail hanging out and down across his chin. He takes Draco's breath away.

  
Draco slides one finger through the come on Harry's chin and watches as Harry's eyes flutter shut. Harry makes a pleading noise and Draco knows he would be begging if he could.

  
"I hope you haven't come from that, Harry?" Draco makes his voice dangerous, even though he knows Harry hasn't.

  
Harry shakes his head from side to side, still holding Draco's load patiently in his mouth. Such a good boy.  
  
"Good. You're so fucking gorgeous like this, I wish you could see yourself. Maybe we can penseive this, what do you think?" Draco keeps sliding his finger through the mess on Harry's face as he talks. "Would you like that, Harry? You can wank off to the sight of yourself sucking my cock."

  
Harry whines and arches his body and Draco knows he is desperate to come.

  
"Alright." Draco brings his face closer to whisper, "you can swallow now, sweetheart, and then we'll see whether I can make you come from just my fingers in your arse."

  
...  
...

  
  
Draco's breath is coming out of him in hard little grunts. From where Harry stands behind him, he can see the way Draco's jaw is clenched, the tendon straining up towards his cheekbone. His back is flecked with the sharp red marks left from Harry's hexes. Harry has been quite creative with them today; practicing his ability to vary the intensity, aiming some of them to skip across Draco's skin like pebbles before driving deep into the nerve endings of his back.

  
With a flare of magic that Draco cannot see with his eyes closed like that, Harry conjures a lash out of the end of his wand and brings it down hard across Draco's shoulders. It causes Draco's whole body to jerk and gives a satisfactory rebound through Harry's wrist.

  
Draco cuts his instinctive cry off short, turning it into a hiss and driving his forehead against the wall. His hands, still above his head like Harry told him, are clenched into fists.

  
Harry strokes the end of the lash through his fingertips. It feels like leather and looks like a soft, flexible extension of the holly. He hasn't spoken a word since he told Draco to stand against the wall, and that was at least 20 minutes ago. Harry has given Draco breaks, but only little ones.

  
He brings the lash down once more and allows himself to feel pleased at the way Draco hitches once again, letting out a high pitched moan. 

  
"I thought I told you to be quiet," Harry says, trying to inject some boredom into his voice. "Do you want me to stop?"

  
"No, sir. I'm sorry, sir," comes Draco's quiet response. He has brought himself back under control, biting the words out.

  
Harry tries not to read too much into Draco's use of the title 'sir'. It was an honorific they both used regularly at school with their professors, of course. Harry commonly uses it as a term of address to his superiors at work and he has heard Draco use it with his customers too. Draco Malfoy is a formal and respectable man when he's not having his back sliced off or getting fucked. It's just that neither of them would ever have used it with each other; not now, as what Harry likes to think of as equal partners, and certainly not as 'Potter' and 'Malfoy' when they were at school. Draco calling Harry 'sir' is a mark of submission and nothing less.

  
"Good." Harry whips his wand across Draco's back once again and this time Draco tenses but doesn't make a sound. "You ought to be grateful, Malfoy, that I give up my time to do this for you. Don't you think?"  
  
"I am," Draco says tightly. "Please don't stop."

  
"Hm. Right, well I want to hear it then. You may thank me."

  
The next time Harry bring the lash down, Draco cries out but manages to form it into the words, "thank you!"  
  
They do this a few more times, Draco gasping or hissing out a thank you after each stroke, until Harry finds himself increasingly turned on by Draco's beautiful stoicism. It makes Harry want to turn him inside out.

  
With one big, hard slash, Harry sends his wand lashing across Draco's back but this time he makes it curl around Draco's shoulders and pull him down. Draco isn't expecting it and the force twists him around to face Harry and down onto his knees.

  
Harry strides forward and Draco is looking up at him, eyes dark and a little dazed. Draco usually has more discipline than to look at Harry, especially when kneeling like this. Harry wishes he could raise an eyebrow the way that Malfoy can, but instead he simply tilts his head and waits.

  
Draco gets it immediately, of course, and he swallows and bows his head. Harry hasn't told him what to do with his arms, so they are once again clasped behind his back. He has bent forward enough that he has almost obscured his crotch from view, but Harry can see enough to know he is still hard.  
  
It's not really about that, not for Draco, Harry knows - but still he cannot bring himself to keep at this if Draco isn't at least a little bit aroused. Harry has an idea of what it is that arouses him and it is a many-layered construction.

  
Draco Malfoy has always provoked Harry, in the most basic and complicated of ways. Harry looks at him, bowed pathetically in front of him, and is reminded of how often he wanted to hurt Malfoy back in school. Of how satisfying it was when he could.

  
Harry grabs Draco by the throat and shoves him hard against the wall. It causes his eyes to flick back up to Harry's face again. They are a stormy grey. His hands splay out to the side.

  
Still holding Draco by the throat, Harry reels back the conjured lash so that his wand is its normal self again and teases Draco's nipple with the point. A non-verbal spell heats the tip of the wand and Harry watches Draco's face as it begins to burn. He moves the point of contact away from the most sensitive area but circles Draco's right nipple slowly, watching the skin around it turning an ugly red. It doesn't cause any real damage, but Harry knows the pain will be as if he were holding a flame to Draco's skin. Harry moves the it away, giving him a moment of respite, before pressing his wand hard into a different spot on Draco's chest.

  
Draco hisses, his face screwed up and head thrown back against the wall where Harry still has him pinned by the throat. He's kneeling upright and Harry standing, meaning that Harry is looming over him.  
  
"Look at me," he commands, and Draco's eyes open once again. They are watery from pain. "More?"

  
Draco nods as much as he can with Harry's hand where it is. He looks at Harry as though Harry is the only thing in the world; his gaze so intense that Harry almost forgets what he is supposed to be doing. Almost.  
  
Roughly, Harry releases Draco, only to pull him to his feet by his hair and shove him around so that he is facing the wall once again. He thrusts Draco's head against it with a thud. Draco looks a little dazed, but Harry knows he wants to be thrown around like this.

  
Still holding Draco's hair with his left hand, Harry slices a burning path across Draco's back with his wand. Draco makes a small cry and screws up his face again.

  
Harry leans in towards his ear. "Is this what you deserve? You want me to make you feel it, Malfoy?" Draco whimpers beneath him. "You're so pretty when you cry for me. Only for me, right Draco?"  
  
Another broken sound and then it's as though Draco can't hold himself back any longer. "Yes, Harry, only you, anything for you," he babbles, interspersed with little hitches of breath and - yes, there it is - an unmistakable grind of his crotch against the wall.

  
Harry throws aside his wand and unbuttons his trousers.

...  
...  
  
  
Draco lazes next to Harry, one hand twisting in the locks of his hair and the other driving two fingers into his arse. Harry is making the most beautiful noises and writhing, still in his bindings. His eyes are closed, and his cock is painfully hard, red and full where it points towards the ceiling. Draco has left his come dried on Harry's face and it's filthy, shiny where it's combined with Harry's sweat and the odd tear track. He's totally given himself over to Draco, lost in pleasure and so wanton it makes Draco ache.  
  
Draco loves him so much. He is so, pathetically gone for this man - this powerful, incredible hero who trusts Draco enough to show him something no one else gets to see.

  
Draco leans in and licks a stripe up Harry's face, tasting all the beautiful colours of Harry mingled with Draco's own. Harry turns his face into it, meeting Draco's lips with his own and demands a kiss, which Draco is helpless but to give him. When he pulls away, Harry's eyes are open and he sighs with pleasure as he writhes down onto Draco's fingers.

  
"Such a slut for me, aren't you Harry?" Draco murmurs fondly. He has absolutely no doubt that his feelings for Harry are pouring out of his very pores; if Harry didn't already know how much he has Draco wrapped around his finger, he must know it now. Draco would do anything to see Harry like this. He thinks he actually might do that pensieve thing - add this to his collection of Potter porn, although admittedly it's getting a bit obsessive.

  
Harry groans as Draco twists his fingers against his prostate and throws his head back against the pillow. "Uhh, Draco please, I need- I need to come, please don't stop."

  
Draco smiles, his own spent cock twitching as he strokes a hand through Harry's hair some more and keeps driving his fingers into Harry. He's a little sorry he came before, but it was worth it to mess up Harry's face like that. "Yeah, that's it. I want to watch you lose it, Harry. Want to watch you come all over yourself without me even touching your cock. You can do it for me, can't you Harry?"

  
Harry cries out louder now, all inhibitions gone, and bucks upwards as he turns his face back in towards Draco. "Fuck, fuck, yeah..."

  
Draco can tell he's close by the way his throat tightens and his legs twitch. "That's it, my beautiful boy. Show me how much you love me; come for me, Harry."

  
When Harry does, it's with such unabashed glory that Draco goes tense himself and feels his own half-hard again dick give a feeble spurt against Harry's hip. Draco strokes Harry through it - inside his arse and in his hair - and then gently withdraws his fingers as Harry's breathing begins to slow and wipes them on his own hip.

  
Harry twists his body so that he can curl into Draco - such a cuddler, honestly, Draco thinks affectionately - and Draco reaches up to loose the cuffs. The bindings fall but the cuffs themselves remain around Harry's wrists as he reaches for Draco. Draco pulls Harry into the crook of his arms and rests Harry's head against his shoulder. He keeps stroking Harry's sweat-damp hair and kisses the scar on his forehead.

  
They don't speak. Draco mentally berates himself for being such a bloody sap, and simultaneously loves Harry with every fibre of his being.

  
...  
...

  
  
Draco all but howls when Harry drives into him. Harry used minimal prep, just a spell to make him a little slicker and looser but only for Harry's sake, not for Draco's. He knows it will be a raw, burning sensation for him and Harry deliberately gives him no time to adjust before setting a demanding pace.  
  
Draco is draped over the side of the bed now, where Harry threw him. Their bed is a wonderful, elaborate, tall thing, the perfect height for Harry to fuck Draco whilst standing upright next to it. He runs a hand possessively over Draco's back, scratching his nails into the raw marks left by Harry's earlier attentions.

  
Harry thinks Draco might be crying, but he isn't worried, not when Draco is responding to his thrusts with no small degree of enthusiasm, driving his own hips into the mattress and grunting with pleasure.  
  
Draco's arms are resting either side of his head, and if Harry takes the left one and twists, he can see Draco's Dark Mark standing out against his skin. He does so, and Draco twitches as if to pull his wrist away. Harry tightens his grip and doesn't falter in his rhythm.

  
"Ah-ah, Draco, don't hide from me," he admonishes, "you know not to do that. Let me see." He feels Draco relax his arm but sees him bury his face into his opposite forearm.

  
Harry knows how shameful this is for him, how desperately Draco wishes, every day, that he wasn't Marked by the sins of his past.

  
"You can't hide from me," Harry tells him as he leans forward, "I know every mistake you've ever made. I know all the evil things you've done. I know you, Draco."

With that, Harry presses his lips to Draco's forearm, kissing and then licking along the Mark. "You're all mine now," he whispers, and then bites the delicate skin beneath him, hard.

  
Draco cries out and arches beneath him, and Harry drives deep into him as he releases the skin from between his teeth but settles his hand possessively over Draco's arm.

  
"Oh please, oh please Harry, don't stop - I'm sorry- I'll be good for you, forever I'll be so good-" Draco's voice is a little slurred from where his face is pressed against the bedding but he is taking Harry's cock so beautifully now Harry thinks he's probably almost done.

  
By pulling Draco's hips upwards with his right hand, Harry is just able to reach it underneath and finds him hard and leaking. Draco keens as Harry wraps his hand around it.

  
"That's it, Draco - let me see you. Let me hear you come for me now - show me how good you are."

  
As Harry feels his own orgasm approaching, he lets go of Draco's arm and pulls his hair, hard, yanking Draco's head backwards and to the side so that Harry can see his face.  
He has been crying; Harry can see the tears smeared around his cheeks.

  
"Look at me," Harry manages to get out, as his hips slam into Draco's. "You're mine now, Draco Malfoy. You're mine."

  
' _And I won't let you make those mistakes again,_ ' is the unspoken message that Harry knows Draco hears.  
  
Draco's eyes fly open and search for Harry - obediently, desperately. Harry thinks that he is trying to form words but they are muddled and incoherent and lost in the pre-orgasmic noises he is making.  
  
Harry meets Draco's stormy grey eyes for all of about 2 seconds before he deliberately lets his pleasure show on his face and can't help his eyelids fluttering. A few more hard thrusts later and Harry is coming, pulsing into Draco's arse and groaning in pure ecstasy. His right hand is still wrapped around Draco's cock, and Harry feels it the moment Draco's orgasm hits. 

  
He shudders underneath Harry and makes the most incredible high, keening moan as he comes.  
  
Afterwards, neither moves immediately. Their breathing evens out slowly and Draco's eyes meet Harry's in a pale shade of watery grey.

  
Then, Draco sort of twists beneath him and slides down and off the bed so that he lands on his knees in front of Harry. Harry pulls himself to an upright sitting position on the bed, and rests a hand on Draco's head, waiting to see what he does next. This bit is important to Draco.

  
Their come must be unpleasantly sticky on him but Harry makes no move to clean them up - not yet. Draco reverently kisses a nondescript spot on Harry's thigh, and then rests his head against Harry's leg. He turns it to face Harry slightly, so Harry can see his face in profile. One of Draco's hands reaches out to seek Harry's spare one, on the bed next to him, and twines their fingers. He is astonishingly beautiful, bright and blonde and open for Harry.

  
"Thank you, Harry," Draco says formally; quietly and private. "I'll be yours as long as you'll have me."

  
The hand in Draco's hair ruffles it slightly and Harry smiles fondly down at him. "Always. Now come back up here and kiss me."

  
He has to half-pull Draco up onto the bed next to him, where they lie together quietly. Harry casts a cleaning spell on them both and Draco sighs at it. His face is exposed, but calm, and Harry is glad. Draco can sometimes get a little awkward and embarrassed at this point. He is so broken, and he gives all the pieces of himself to Harry to mend. Harry smiles, and kisses him with all the love he has to give.


End file.
